


darling, hold me (gently)

by georgeeehd



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Comfort No Hurt, Dream is soft for his sleepy bf, Established Relationship, Fluff, George's POV, I was tired so I projected onto these idiots, Literally I just wanted something comforting so my brain cells went brr and 1k later here we are, M/M, Sleepy Cuddles, Sleepy George, Soft dnf, but mostly George, george gets half an hour into howls moving castle and decides that now is the Time to Sleep, oh and in case you somehow missed the memo, they're very gay here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:15:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27111052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/georgeeehd/pseuds/georgeeehd
Summary: The rain outside fades to soft pink noise, and his blinking has slowed with fatigue. He's vaguely aware that he's slipping slowly into welcoming darkness and thatmaybehe should put his cup down before he spills it, but he can't find the energy to push himself up off the cushions and towards the coffee table in front of him.It's for the best, then, that soft, warm fingers gently,gently, firmly pry the cup from his loose grasp and the laptop from where it's fallen to rest sideways against his leg -when did that happen?Softly, begrudgingly, his eyes blink open once more and lazily focus over to where Clay is half-lying, half-sitting on the other end of the sofa.Clay's eyes are already on his, breathtakinglysoftand love-crinkled as he smiles at him, before extending his arms out and making grabby-hands.A snippet into the lives of George and Clay.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 21
Kudos: 465
Collections: fluff, rye's lifeblood (alternatively titled: rye's favorites), ⁿᵒᵇᵒᵈʸ ⁿᵉᵉᵈˢ ᵗᵒ ᵏⁿᵒʷ





	darling, hold me (gently)

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this because I was looking for something soft that I could wrap myself in like a blanket. As word-blankets go, I'm pretty happy with this. It's super soft. 
> 
> As is the norm for fic like this, ship personas and not people, and if George or Dream express discomfort in shipping, I'll take this down.

George sighs, and shifts slightly where he's curled up on his sofa. Hot chocolate, cupped in his hands, radiates warmth that soothes after a long day. He's weary, Netflix open to some half-forgotten _Studio Ghibli_ film on the laptop that's half falling off his lap, but he's _content_.

The rain outside fades to soft pink noise, and his blinking has slowed with fatigue. He's vaguely aware that he's slipping slowly into welcoming darkness and that _maybe_ he should put his cup down before he spills it, but he can't find the energy to push himself up off the cushions and towards the coffee table in front of him.

It's for the best, then, that soft, warm fingers gently, _gently_ , firmly pry the cup from his loose grasp and the laptop from where it's fallen to rest sideways against his leg - _when did that happen?_ Softly, begrudgingly, his eyes blink open once more and lazily focus over to where Clay is half-lying, half-sitting on the other end of the sofa.

Clay's eyes are already on his, breathtakingly _soft_ and love-crinkled as he smiles at him, before extending his arms out and making grabby-hands. For a moment, George is starstruck at the thought of just how lucky he is to be able to share these moments with him. The universe was not often kind, but equally, encompassingly benevolent to allow him these moments of _peace_.

He's staring, and Clay has been making grabby hands for _just_ long enough that an exaggerated pout has worked its way onto his lips and George smiles impossibly wider before launching himself bodily into Clay's arms. He hears, _feels_ the air rush from his lungs in the form of the winded sound Clay makes in retaliation of his clearly _ruthless_ attack.

Clay hums, contentment spreading through the air, through their intertwined legs and through the space on his shoulders that meets the arms George has curled around him.

" _Comfy, sweetheart_?" Clay breathes, and George's sleep-addled brain only registers the question at all because he can feel the breath of the words against his ear and along his cheek. He answers with a gentle hum, pressing his head _impossibly_ closer to the junction between his neck and shoulder, breathes deeply, and stills against him, listening to the rain.

One of Clay's arms has unwound from where he'd manoeuvred them across his waist, trailing a line up his spine and back down again, feather-light and _just_ shy of ticklish. It's almost unbearably soft but the feeling encompasses him gently and lovingly at the same time. George almost wants to cry at the fact that he's allowed this at all - _he's so_ _lucky_ , he thinks.

Clay's arm tires of his back and trails along, to his arm, his shoulder, his jaw, his cheek. It settles for a moment, before winding through his hair in a motion that has him curling even closer as he craves the affection that Clay so readily gives.

"I lov'yu," George mumbles, _barely_ coherent. He's gifted with the ghosting sensation of a soft kiss to the top of his head, atop his hair, in return. He's _more_ than happy to drift off here. Clay shifts minutely against the sofa, before reaching up towards the coffee table with an arm holding George steady against him. He grumbles at the movement, arms lazily snaking back around Clay's shoulders from where they'd fallen to rest under his cheek.

He's roughly aware of something being balanced on his back, but it's light and invitingly _warm_ against his hoodie, until he hears the tell-tale clicking of a keyboard and it registers that Clay has balanced _their laptop on his back._ The _cheek_ of it! He opens his eyes with the intent to make some sarcastic remark, but the words are caught in his throat as he sees the way he's looking at him.

 _Soft, soft, soft_.

His eyes crinkle again in response and he's about to lean upwards to steal a kiss when -

"Have you been watching _Bake-Off_ without me?!" It's almost enough to qualify as a _screech_ , and it's enough to drag him slightly back from the clutches of sleep. 

Well. He supposes they're both as cheeky as each other, then. Serves _him_ right for spending so _long_ running around on Minecraft taunting Sapnap with his weapons and cocky attitude, then. He hums, voice rough with sleep-warmed disuse. 

"M'be," he mumbles, still mostly caught between the hazy curtains that blur sleep and waking together. He's languid with the remnants of sleep, but that's okay, because he's with _Clay_ and over the years he has become the person he associates most with comfort, and protection.

_With home._

Clay has become a home to him as much as he's become a home to Clay.

His hair ruffles, fingers winding through the locks and teasing away knots that have formed throughout the day, and he knows he's forgiven. Still, he presses a feather light kiss to the space between Clay's collarbone and shoulder, snuggling in closer still.

"You'll just have to put it back to where we were. I won't spoil anything."

Clay whines, "But it's two _whole_ episodes! It's no fun watching baking disasters when _you_ already know what's going to happen."

"I know, m' sorry. Maybe next time you'll spend less time recording with Snapmap and more time _cuddling me_ , then."

This earns a chuckle from Clay, and he can feel it reverberating from where he's perched in his lap, face practically buried in his neck. "You know you can always join us when we record," he teases. 

George hums once more, muttering about how they can't play Minecraft and cuddle at the same time and how inherently _unfair_ that is - "Is that a challenge?" "No! - maybe." - hot chocolate long since forgotten on the table. The rain, ever a constant, pours slightly heavier than it was before. But he's _content_ to lay in Clay's arms and softly dream.

They call Sapnap the next day, and not only does Clay have the audacity to _actually_ try finishing the video he was recording with Sapnap while George makes a scarily accurate impression of a _koala_ in his arms, he decides that he wants to test it on stream afterwards. It's definitely a sight, Clay's arms under George's, doing his best to stay out of the way while Dream chases Sapnap around in a mock manhunt. Truly, they're _both_ idiots. They're _all_ idiots. It's wonderful. 

He can't find it in him to anything but soft and sweet, _malleable_ with adoration, especially when he scrolls through his twitter later and sasses Sapnap some more just because he can.

He's content with his little piece of home. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! This was entirely self-indulgent and written and edited in less than 3 hours because I was feeling low and wanted some comfort and when you're looking for something, sometimes you just have to write it yourself. It's kinda rough but I haven't seriously written anything in a long while so I'm not too bothered.  
> Sometimes you just need some soft dreamnotfound to cope with being in love with your best friend who's probably straight lmao 
> 
> Sapnap and George give me serious like savage vibes they definitely have some cain instinct lmao  
> Sap walks into a room with George in and suddenly the nearest object comes flying at him. And vice versa, but don't mess with them because only they can mess with each other.  
> Rip to George's forgotten hot chocolate, left to go cold like the many, _many_ kettle drinks I've abandoned over the years. Dream probably straight up stole it while George was dozing.
> 
> If you notice any formatting or spelling errors (it's 1am as I'm posting this) drop me a comment and I'll fix it ASAP! Thanks again for taking the time to read this. ✨


End file.
